Liquid Gold
by reignofhavok
Summary: Chris Redfield. Kevin Ryman. Beer. Fun ensues.


Disclaimer: Part of a Chris, Kevin and beer challenge. That's about it really. And yes, I own them and all their subsidiary rights. O.o

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Kevin Ryman sent a slug into the brain of yet another undead creature and let out a whoop of delight. Raccoon City had gone to hell in the last few weeks, of that there was no denying. But why let death and destruction get in the way of some fun? He'd taken up residence on the roof of the R.P.D., which gave him a great vantage point of the surrounding areas. It was also the perfect hunting ground, and his aim was as good as ever.

Kevin grabbed his beer and took a long drink, slamming it back down with a happy sigh when he was done. He wasn't the only officer left in the city, but he was one of the very few who had either refused or just been too stupid to run when they still had the chance. But why lament over what couldn't be changed? At least he'd go out having some fun.

The nearby door opened, startling Kevin from his revelry. He turned and smiled. "Hey Chris, wassup?"

Chris Redfield. S.T.A.R.S. marksman and probably the only person in the entire police force that was a better shot than he was. Not that he'd ever let him know that. The guy looked like hell, and for good reason. He'd been trying to convince the city for weeks that evil was afoot, but no one had believed him. Couldn't believe him really.

In between trying to make people wake up and smell the corpses, he'd also been doing research into the evil machinisms of Umbrella. He wouldn't tell them what exactly he was researching, but you didn't have to be a genius to guess. He was researching what they were researching. It was hard to always be 10 steps behind.

"You got anymore of those beers?" Chris walked over and sat in the chair next to Kevin, rubbing his tired eyes and yawning. Kevin opened his esky and smiled. "Two things that Raccoon is always in plentiful supply of my friend. Beer and guns. Don't you love this city?"

Chris grabbed a beer, cracked it and downed the entire thing in one go. He lay his head back against the chair and let the bottle drop to the ground, a large 'clank' rattling off into the air.

"Want another?" Kevin asked, an amused look on his face. Chris held his hand up, his eyes still closed, and indicated 'not right now'.

"Well, you know where the box is," Kevin turned back to his sentinel duty, smiling as he noticed a familiar shuffling come into view. "Oh yes. Come to daddy."

Chris opened one eye, turning slightly to look at Kevin. He was oblivious, happily reloading his rifle and getting his aim on. He briefly smiled before Chris saw the gun go off. He turned his head and saw the nearby creature drop to the ground without so much as a flinch. Kevin's aim was true. As always.

He beamed again, almost proud. He turned and held out the gun to Chris. "So come on almighty marksman, show us what you're made of."

Chris continued staring at him in silence for a few more moments before sighing and grabbing the gun. He sat up a bit straighter in the seat and reloaded it, taking a quick glance through the sights at the street below.

"How long have you been up here?" Chris finally asked, sitting back and grabbing another beer. The streets were empty, he'd have to wait for something else to show up.

Kevin shrugged. "Dunno. Time doesn't really seem to matter anymore does it?"

Chris shrugged, but didn't answer. He was still deep in thought, and probably not on the deep ramifications of booze mixed with bullets mixed with zombies.

Silence filled the air between them, a cold wind blowing. The streets were also deadly silent, to use a bad pun. Kevin took another drink. Chris did the same.

"So what are your plans?" Kevin finally asked, turning to look at the haggard man next to him. He looked like he hadn't slept for days, and he had three day old stubble on his face. His eyes were also bloodshot; it would be far too easy to mistake him for one of those creatures down there. All he needed was to lean over and munch on his brains to complete the picture.

"I'm heading to Europe," Chris said after a long pause. Kevin nodded and took another drink. "Okay. Why Europe?"

Another pause.

"Jill is staying to cover things here. But the big stuff is happening over there."

Kevin opened his mouth to ask Chris if he could elaborate, but closed it again. He very likely wouldn't, and Kevin wasn't so sure if he wanted to know anyway. Zombies were bad enough, but he'd heard tales of the S.T.A.R.S. visit to the Spencer Mansion in the Arklay Woods. Of the other things they'd seen there. He didn't want to hear any more.

Chris took a long, slow drink before picking the rifle up and leisurely taking aim. Kevin couldn't even see anything moving. What the hell was he aiming at? He frowned.

The gun went off and Kevin heard a loud yelp. "What the fuck was that?"

Chris wordlessly handed the rifle over and sat back to take another drink. Kevin looked through the sights at the streets below. "I don't see..." Then he spotted it, just barely. What looked like the head of a dog, half its face now missing as he lay behind a shop wall.

Kevin turned to look at Chris, a look of horror on his face. Chris saw it and couldn't help but give a tired smile. "It was already dead when I shot it, don't worry."

An eyebrow raised above Kevin's right eye, the look remaining. "Fuck off."

Chris mirrored his look, feeling the first hint of amusement he'd had in weeks. Maybe he really was tired and going slightly crazy.

"You're telling me the fucking dogs are zombies too?"

Chris nodded.

"Fuck off."

"You fuck off."

Kevin shook his head. He could vaguely recall the S.T.A.R.S. telling everyone they'd been attacked by dogs, but he didn't think they were zombie dogs. What the fuck? He took another drink.

"So what, next thing you know I'm gonna find myself face to face with a fucking zombie puss in boots?"

Chris smiled again and finished off his beer. "You know, I've yet to see a T-Virus cat. And I hope to god it stays that way."

Kevin nodded emphatically. "Fuck. Well who's up for a trip to the zoo? I gotta see me some zombie elephants and lions man."

Chris closed his eyes and shook his head, his voice beginning to trail off. "Yeah, sounds like fun. You go on ahead, I'll meet you there."

Kevin sighed and reloaded the rifle. Wonders never ceased. And now he couldn't stop thinking about zombified zoo animals. What a trip. He pondered the thought of meeting some, then realised he could probably live the rest of his life happily if he never ran into a T-Virus elephant or rhinosaurus. Very happily indeed.

He scanned the streets below again, Chris quietly nodding off beside him. He resisted the urge to poke him with the gun, just to piss him off.

But then he saw it. Movement. Kevin smiled and got his finger ready on the trigger. The moment that shadow stepped out... boom. One less cannibal to worry about for his next beer run.

He waited patiently, the shadow movely slowly, erratically. His finger itched to pull the trigger, to fill him with that familiar sensation that coursed through him when for one brief moment he held someone's life in his hands. The power of it all. The exhilaration.

The shadow finally stepped out from behind the wall. Bingo. He pulled on the trigger.

"Fuck!" Kevin screamed, pulling the rifle up at the last moment as he saw who he'd just tried to kill. Jill fucking Valentine. His eyes shot up and he looked over at Chris. No movement. He was asleep. Kevin turned back to the street and could see Jill shouting various choice words and holding the side of her face. The bullet had just grazed by her cheek, he'd thankfully managed to pull back in time. He was glad he couldn't hear what she was saying.

"Oh shit, oh shit," he muttered, looking around. Jill would kill him once she found out he was up there and had nearly just blown her head off. He saw her look up and take off at a run for the R.P.D.

"Fuck fuck fuck!" Kevin stood up and frantically looked around. He folded up his chair and lay the rifle across Chris' chest. He didn't move, a slight snore coming from his lips. Kevin kicked the nearby beer bottles towards Chris' chair and with one last look quickly took off for the stairs. If all went to plan Jill would find Chris and make him pay before finding out what had really happened.

But in the meantime, he was gonna haul his ass outta dodge. He'd rather take his chances with a zombie elephant than an irate Jill Valentine, thank you very much. At least with the elephant there was a small chance he'd live to tell about the tale... 


End file.
